The Starting Line-Plums
by web of light
Summary: Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson finally admit they like and respect each other. First part of a Series of one shots exploring the relationship between Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. Will this lead to anything? Post Avengers Endgame.


The trees with the vibrant pink flowers kept obscuring his sight. They were hiding in there. He could hear movement and he might have been able to smell them but the fragrance of the blossoms overpowered everything.

"You're not going to like this," Sam's voice came from above. "That orchard covers a couple of acres."

'Damn it," Bucky said, keeping his voice low. "But they couldn't have gotten far. Your sensors picking up on anything at all?"

"The foliage is heavy, but I see heat signatures about a hundred meters in front of you, and I'm detecting movement," his voice started to trail off. "Could be the wind, there's a breeze."

'How much is that in yards?" Bucky asked, pulling his rifle down.

"About the same. Didn't Hydra teach you metric?"

"Shut up," Bucky responded as he moved forward, being careful to stay as quiet as possible. He walked up to a large red patch on the ground. At first, he thought it was a pile of fallen blossoms, but coming closer he could see it was something else and it trailed off in front of him. Peering through the orchard, he made out figures attempting to hide behind some trees, right where Sam said they'd be. "I see them. Soldiers... there's at least two of them, maybe more, one of them's wounded."

"You can tell that? Damn. Cap had super senses but I don't think he could..."

'I can tell because there's blood on the grass. Lots of it. So should we do the humanitarian thing and try to help them, or just take them out?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I'm Captain America, remember, and I used to be a medic."

"I get it. Anyone tell you you're no fun?"

"We destroyed their base. No need for overkill."

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"Just bring them to the edge of the trees," Sam said.

"Yes, Cap," Bucky said.

"I told you, you don't need to call me that," Sam said. Now Bucky could see him, his wings casting a small shadow on the ground.

"Yes, I do," Bucky said. He picked up a stone and threw it with a full force at a tree beyond their location, resulting in a loud cracking noise, similar to a shotgun blast. They reacted as he thought they would, coming out of their cover, their backs toward him, aiming their weapons to the trees beyond.

"Don't move!" He called, in their language, coming closer. "Throw down your weapons, and no one needs to get hurt." There were two of them. One of them followed his instructions, but the other one turned, his rifle ready to fire.

"There's always one," Bucky muttered to himself, holding up his metal arm, allowing the bullets to ricochet off to the trees. He pulled his weapon around but the shooting stopped. The two shouted at each other, and a few moments, the shooter threw his weapon to the ground. They stood there for a moment, one sullen and insolent but finally they came toward him, hands in the air.

"Who is hurt?" Bucky asked, again in their language. " If you come quietly, we'll take care of him." They pointed to a tree behind them. Bucky nodded but indicated with the rifle that they should move to the edge of the trees, as per Sam's orders. He felt and heard Sam coming to earth.

"Local authorities are on their way. Where's the wounded guy?" he asked.

"Behind a tree near where I found them," Bucky replied, keeping his eyes focused ahead on his captives.

"I'll see what I can do," Sam said.

A half an hour later, and the captives were gone, taken by the local militia. The two men remained on the hill, overlooking the trees.

"Not bad, if I say so myself," Sam said. "Over and done in one morning, and this isn't our usual arena of combat. No empty warehouses, or hostages on a boat in the middle of nowhere."

"Lucky us," Bucky said. It was a beautiful location. The temperature was on the right side of cool even though the sun was brilliant in the sky above. The wind picked up a little, sending a scented breeze their way.

"So now, what do you want to do?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean, what do I want to do?" Bucky asked. The question caught him off guard.

"This was supposed to take a couple of days. It was over in a couple of hours. We should go hang out for a while. Look around, soak up the local culture."

"You mean, like friends?"

'Yeah, like friends."

"Except we're not...friends," Bucky said. He wasn't sure where this was headed.

"Yes, we are," Sam said. "We might as well stop pretending. We respect each other, like each other, might as well admit it."

"Uh, no we don't," Bucky said.

"Well, I'm Captain America, and I say, we stay. Never can tell, the bad guys might have more cells of nefarious activity operating around here."

"I think we got the last of them," Bucky said. He was starting to get nervous. He didn't know what had gotten into Sam but he had to admit, he was right. The two of them were growing closer, but he didn't think they had reached the friendship stage yet.

"You THINK we got the last of them, but we don't know," Sam said. He reached out and touched one of the blossoms. "Pretty trees,' He said. "What are they?"

"Plums," Bucky said, then wished he had kept his mouth shut. It brought back memories.

"Plums? Did Hydra teach you horticulture on top of everything else?"

"No, I used to eat them, a lot. Back when I was in Bucharest. I thought they would help..." his voice trailed off as the images flashed through his mind, taking him away to his painful past.

"Help with what?" Sam's voice brought him back to the present.

"I got it in my head that eating them would help with my memories." The conversation was making him uncomfortable.

"Did they?" There was compassion instead of snark in his question, catching Bucky off guard.

"I don't know. I didn't get to eat the last bunch I bought. That was when you and Steve came to save me. I never..." he stumbled on his words. Now that he had started, he wasn't able to stop his thoughts from coming out. Maybe it was the location, the sunshine, the colorful scenery, he wasn't sure what it was that made him keep talking.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I never thanked you for that," Buckys said. "Steve, I expected, but not you, there was no reason..." _Why now?_

"Did I ever tell you about Riley," Sam interrupted.

"I know the name, I knew he was your friend," Bucky said.

"Let's just say, I lost him. He got shot down and I couldn't do anything but watch him fall. Sound familiar?" Sam looked him hard in the eyes.

"You know it does," Bucky said, unable to turn away.

"I know that if there was any hint that Riley was still alive somewhere, in your situation, Steve would drop everything and help me look for him. That's why I did it. He'd do it for me," Sam said.

A long silent moment passed between the two men. Bucky felt something turn inside him. He didn't want to admit it, but a new respect for Sam was starting to grow inside him.

"Any regrets?" Bucky asked. He needed to deflect the conversation away from himself.

"Only when you tried to kill me those couple of times. I know I give you a hard time, but we did the right thing, getting you away from that."

"That took a lot for you to admit. Thank you," Bucky said.

"I know that took a lot for you to say," Sam said. Another few moments of silence, this time it was a little more awkward. "And before we get all maudlin about it, there's a town about a mile away, I hear they have a nice little bistro, we should go check it out." He started to saunter off down the hill.

Bucky caught up with him with little effort. "You sure about this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. So...plums?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Bucky replied. "Plums."


End file.
